


Polaroid

by Bil1801



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Some kind of soulmate au I guess, Songfic, They're soulmates the 100th episode proved it, i have no clue how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23563882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bil1801/pseuds/Bil1801
Summary: “I’ve always wanted to find you again,” Kara responds, her eyes searching Lena’s.“Well, now you have,” Lena replies, walking up to her.They’re so close, Kara can count every single mark on her skin, can taste the scotch on her breath, can see the pain, but also the determination like steel in her gaze.“Now I have,” she breathes.They stare into each other’s eyes, and Kara swears she feels the air waver, and the ground tremble, like entire universes just collided.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 94





	Polaroid

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a song called Polaroid by Jonas Blue, and also by the 100th episode because it proved beyond a doubt that Kara and Lena are soulmates and will always find each other or whatever, and if they don't the world will be destroyed. It's short and kind of far-fetched, but maybe I'll expand on it if I have any magical ideas or inspiration for it.

Kara swears she’s seen her a hundred times.

When Kara was a young girl, maybe 3 or 4, swinging her legs on a bench, drawing in a notepad, and happening to look up and see her, her dark hair drifting on the breeze, her eyes wide and shining as she stacked rocks on the sidewalk.

And the girl looked up, up at Kara, and their eyes locked, and it was so quick, but for a moment, for a heartbeat, Kara saw stars.

Then it was over, and the girl looked away.

Older now, 8 or 9, swinging her backpack as she walked home from school, and their paths crossed, just for a heartbeat, as their arms brushed, and their eyes locked.

The girl’s eyes were fringed by long, dark lashes, and hollowed out with sadness; her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and her face was blotchy like she’d been crying.

And it was ever so quick, eyes meeting and moving away, footsteps moving on.

12 or 13, walking through the library, sunlight pouring in from the skylights overhead, the air smelling like paper and ink, her heavy backpack weighing on her shoulders, then happening to look over and see her.

The girl is leaning against the wall in the very back of the library, an enormous book propped up on her knees, her long dark hair hiding her eyes as she bends her head.

Then she raises her head, and her eyes snag on Kara’s, and Kara studies her, just for a moment, and yet the moment is burned into her mind; wide, shocked eyes watering with tears, lips pulled down at the corners, face breaking with anguish.

This time Kara is the one to look away.

15 or 16 now, crying on a street corner, so overwhelmed she can’t breathe, and she hears a bright, vibrant, ringing laugh, and a moment later, the girl walks around the corner, arm in arm with another.

But all Kara can see is her, her eyes wide and shining with laughter, as she swings her backpack over her arm.

And as the girl passes by, she pauses for a heartbeat, rests her hand on Kara’s arm, her eyes sending a silent message. _It’’s going to be okay._

Then she walks past, and Kara thinks about her shining eyes, and her warm touch, and maybe starts to believe her.

18 or 19, draining an iced mocha, barely staying on her feet, backpack weighted down, eyes down on her phone screen as she reads her latest texts from her sister, wishing she had the energy to smile.

“Careful, you’re going to walk into a street lamp,” the girl’s voice is high and clear and beautiful, and Kara looks up and sees her entrancing eyes, brimming with mirth, as she nudges Kara’s arm.

Then she walks past without another word, taking Kara’s heart with her.

Four or five years go by, and Kara almost forgets her. It’s not like they ever had an actual conversation. Maybe she was just Kara’s imagination.

But her heart won’t let the girl go.

Then she winds up in Lena Luthor’s office, and finds herself looking into those eyes she’s seen so many times, gleaming with tears and bright with laughter, and just like the first time, Kara sees stars spin in her eyes.

“Well, you look familiar,” Lena says with a chuckle. Her hair cascades over her shoulders; her eyes are light, but her shoulders are slumped, and the heavy burden of responsibility and guilt clearly weighs on her. But it can’t erase the radiance of her smile.

“Do I?” Kara asks, quirking an eyebrow. Lena is so, indescribably, unbelievably _familiar_ to her as well, but she can’t pinpoint why, or where she knows her from.

“Yes, I feel like I’ve seen you before.” Lena’s eyes are shining with laughter, and it’s then that Kara remembers it. Remembers her.

“I’ve been searching for you for years now,” Lena goes on. “Somehow I haven’t been able to forget about you. I don’t know why; we never even had an actual conversation.”

“I’ve always wanted to find you again,” Kara responds, her eyes searching Lena’s.

“Well, now you have,” Lena replies, walking up to her.

They’re so close, Kara can count every single mark on her skin, can taste the scotch on her breath, can see the pain, but also the determination like steel in her gaze.

“Now I have,” she breathes.

They stare into each other’s eyes, and Kara swears she feels the air waver, and the ground tremble, like entire universes just collided.


End file.
